


I Went Too Far

by ForestBlue (forestblue)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Accidents, Enemies With Benefits, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Physical Disability, Smut, i feel like i should add the mention that there's gonna be some slight octaven, this is gonna be a wild ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-12-01 18:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11492130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forestblue/pseuds/ForestBlue
Summary: Lexa is involved in a car crash. She loses something in the accident, more than what she thought she would. An enemies with benefits to friends to lovers fic that is way more complicated than I can explain in a short summary. Expect smut, angst, and (once they get their head out of their ass) some fluff.The title of the fic is from AURORA's "I Went Too Far".





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's gonna be some problematic shit going on here, especially when the smut rolls around. Don't say I didn't warn you. (Everything's gonna end up just fine, though. They're just gonna get to hell and back in this fic, that's all :P)

_It was snowing heavily. The car’s windscreen wipers could barely keep up with the onslaught of white flakes pouring from the sky; the roads, slippery with ice, were dangerous for all._

_Lexa clenched her jaw and gripped the steering wheel tighter. She hadn’t wanted to go out in this weather, but Clarke had somehow managed to convince her to drive the blonde and their friends to a party hosted by Finn Collins, an old acquaintance of Clarke’s from college (Lexa privately thought that he was an asshole, but he had been nothing but polite to her so far, so she couldn’t complain). She had picked up her sister Anya, then Octavia and Raven – who fought over their seating in the back for five minutes before deciding it with a game of rock, paper, scissors. Lexa had rolled her eyes at their antics, but she had been secretly glad for a chance to take a little break from driving around the snow-pelted city. One look in the rear-view mirror told her that Raven – ever the observant one – had noticed (if her small smile was anything to go by), and that the little argument with Octavia was the Raven’s way of helping Lexa relax._

_She could do this. They were already halfway to Clarke’s house, and so far, so good. Lexa’s trusty Ford Focus hadn’t slipped on the ice once. Clarke lived just outside the city; once the group exited the city limits, she was relieved. The roads were much cleaner, and the snow was falling less violently. She allowed herself to calm down. They were almost there._

_Right before a sharp turn, Lexa was startled at the sight of a car – clearly out of control – hurtling violently towards them. She only had a few seconds to react. She lurched to the right, positioning her car so as to take the least damage possible. A moment after that, she felt more than heard loud crunches as the other car hit the driver’s side. She hit her head against the window, felt something piercing the side of her head; a sudden wave of excruciating pain in her lower body hit her, and she felt nauseous. Lexa closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath; it was uneven, and the air burned in her throat._

_She was dimly aware of the sound of labored breaths around her. She opened her eyes and looked to her right. Anya was staring in horror at the wreck in front of their car. Lexa tried to sigh in relief when she saw her sister alive and mostly unharmed, but the breath caught in her throat and she coughed. That made Anya’s eyes snap to Lexa; if possible, her usually stoic sister seemed even more horrified. Lexa suddenly felt too tired to keep her eyes open._

_“Lexa!” She heard someone’s distant scream, before she blacked out._

 

Lexa woke up a couple of days later in a white hospital room. The pain and heaviness she felt all throughout her body told her that getting up was not possible anytime soon. Looking around the small room, she noticed Anya sleeping on a chair in a corner. She tried to clear her throat to get her sister’s attention. It was a pitiful attempt, but it had the desired effect. Anya sprung to her feet, called a nurse, and brought Lexa some water to drink.

After the nurse left, Anya took Lexa’s hand in her own.

“Don’t scare me like that again, you idiot. You hear?”

Lexa answered with a small smile and a nod. Her older sister wasn’t good at showing emotions, and Lexa could see the love and worry in her eyes, the dark bags under them. She could tell that Anya had watched over her, and neglected her own wellbeing in doing so. It seemed, however, that Anya had barely been hurt in the accident, only a few bruises and almost-healed scars littering her face and arms.

Lexa was relieved to hear that Octavia had only hit her head against the window, but was otherwise unharmed. Tears filled her eyes when Anya told her about Raven’s broken leg. It was a bad break, and it would take months to heal; Raven would need to also undergo physical therapy to properly use her leg again. Anya didn’t let Lexa beat herself up for Raven’s condition, reminding Lexa that her quick decision had probably saved their lives.

Lexa realized that she didn’t know the extent of her injuries. She looked down at her body, eyeing the white sheet covering her warily.

“How bad is it, Anya?” she asked, fixing her sister with a stare that said ‘I know something’s wrong, and I want to know what’.

Her sister looked pained at the request, but she took a deep breath and steeled herself.

“Your right leg is broken, but it will heal. Doctors said it’ll take about one to two months until the cast can be removed, but-” Anya paused.

“But?”

“Your left leg. It was crushed in the accident. They couldn’t reconstruct it, the risk for infection was too great. They amputated it above the knee.”

The information hit Lexa straight in the gut. Overwhelmed by the sudden loss, she didn’t know how to react. She listened to Anya explain how she would have to wait for her legs to heal, then undergo physical therapy. She would then get a prosthetic leg, and learn how to walk with it. It would take a few months, but the doctors were confident in her recovery. Lexa took it all in with a neutral expression, feeling detached from the situation, as if it wasn’t really her sitting in the hospital bed with a leg missing, as if she hadn’t been through a traumatic experience that had left its mark on her body.

Thankfully, no other injuries were as severe as her legs; the glass shard hadn’t penetrated her skin too deeply, so it hadn’t pierced her skull; the cut on the side of her head, along with other cuts and bruises, would heal in a few weeks at most.

 “When will I be discharged?”

“The doctors say you’ll be cleared to use a wheelchair soon enough. They want to keep you for another two weeks at least, but you’ll probably be able to leave after that; as long as you come back for weekly check-ups,” Anya answered without missing a beat, clearly having expected the question, knowing Lexa’s intense dislike of hospitals.

Lexa felt too tired to continue the conversation after that, and she soon fell asleep. She noticed Anya’s worried expression, but she assumed her sister was still thinking about Lexa’s condition.

 

 

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur. With painkillers came drowsiness, and Lexa was in and out of it most of the time, barely getting any time to ponder why none of her friends had visited her. Gustus had come to visit her almost as often as Anya; she was immensely grateful for her family, for their unending love and support. She didn’t know if she could get through the next months without their help.

One night, however, Lexa found it impossible to fall asleep – probably because earlier that day, she had not avoided looking at her amputated leg when the nurse came to check on the bandages. It was probably the shock, she thought. Then, she finally remembered her friends – their absence, more specifically. Where was Octavia? Surely, she had been discharged already. Raven could have visited; she was probably given a wheelchair or crutches to move around with. And what about Clarke? Where was her best friend? Lexa tried to think of any reason why Clarke would be out of town, and came up empty-handed. For all intents and purposes, Clarke was most likely at home, just as was Octavia, Lincoln, Bellamy, Monty and Jasper. So why had neither of them visited her?

Lexa felt tears filling her eyes, but she refused to let herself cry. The shock of losing a limb, paired with being confined in the sterile room for such a long time made her feel weak and emotional. She would not succumb to the despair growing inside of her. She would be strong. However, she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to make Clarke disappear.

When a nurse came in the morning to tell Lexa that she had a visitor, she had almost declined the visit because of her exhaustion.

She was both relieved and disappointed at the same time. The door opened, and a smiling Raven came through on a customized red wheelchair (which the engineer had clearly had a hand in modifying). She greeted Lexa with a half-hug, the most either could do considering their injuries. Lexa spared a glance down at Raven’s leg. Pain flared up in her chest at the sight.

“Raven, I… your leg. I’m so sorry,” Lexa's hands shook with emotion, the nauseating weight of guilt settling deep in her gut.

“Hey, Lex. Don’t worry, okay? Your driving skills totally saved our asses. And, anyway, I don’t mind having a cast for a little while. Means I get to play some more with this baby,” she waggled her eyebrows playfully while pointing at her wheelchair, which at this point looked more like a spaceship or a hot rod than anything else.

Raven didn’t let Lexa say anything more on the subject, proceeding to talk Lexa's ear off about the ideas she had for Lexa’s own wheelchair (it would be green, and it would run on solar power; Raven was so proud of her pun that she started laughing at her own joke before Lexa even got it). She already had some ideas about Lexa's future prosthetic, too, but she couldn't start working on anything until she had the basic specifications for it. After an hour of engineer-talk, out of which Lexa barely understood anything, Raven still wasn’t done talking. She told Lexa about random things that she had overheard the nurses talking about. Normally, it wasn't out of character for Raven to fill the silence, as her brain worked faster than everyone else's, so she couldn't cope with the outside world being so silent while she heard so many things at once in her own mind. However, there was something off about how Raven filled the silence so much that Lexa herself could barely get a word in, couldn't ask about anything. Lexa spaced out from the conversation, trying to figure out why Raven was acting so strangely. She quickly realized that the topic Raven was avoiding, the one thing missing from their conversation absolutely, was Clarke.

“-and apparently some place that sells vegan ice-cream just—Lexa, are you even listening?”

 “How is Clarke?”

Raven’s smile fell.

“Lexa… I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk about this right now,” she answered in an uncharacteristically soft tone, trying to once again steer the conversation away from the topic of their friend.

Lexa felt panic rise in her chest.

“Why? What’s wrong? Did something happen to Clarke? Where is she?!” she fired question after question in quick succession. When she stopped, she was breathing erratically, and her hands shook with anxiety.

“No!” Raven rushed to answer. “She’s… nothing like that happened to Clarke... But something  _did_  happen, and Anya and I were hoping to let you heal a bit more before you heard it,” she sighed, “I guess you should know, though, considering how you feel about her.”

Lexa’s eyes widened; she had tried to make sure her romantic feelings for Clarke remained unnoticed, especially considering the shift in dynamic since they had started messing around – friends with benefits is what Clarke called their new relationship; they were lonely, they hadn’t found anyone to date, they were both attractive, and they trusted each other more than anyone else.  It seemed logical enough. Besides, Lexa had always been too weak to refuse Clarke anything. Apparently, she hadn’t been as subtle as she thought.

“Don’t worry, Clarke doesn’t know. Or at least, I don’t think so.” Raven’s expression soured and she clenched her jaw. “Not that it would matter to her now, anyway.” Raven blinked away her anger, forcing a half-smile to reassure the girl lying in the hospital bed.

“For what it’s worth, Lexa, I don’t agree with what Clarke said. That’s why I’m here, talking to you. I’m your friend; remember that, okay?”

Lexa sucked in a deep breath. Raven never mixed her words, and the fact that she had waited so long before saying something important wasn’t lost on Lexa. Her heart dropped in her stomach, as if she already knew the words that were to come out of Raven’s mouth were enounced to destroy her.

“The other driver that was involved in the accident was Jake Griffin. He didn’t make it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out some of how Lexa feels about what Raven just told her about the accident. Conversations, physical therapy, and getting discharged. Lots of changes coming up for Lexa in these next chapters, and we'll have to see how she copes with it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I managed to finish the second chapter! It ended up being very different from my first draft which was written like last month or so. Also, why did no one tell me that the text in the first chapter wasn't justified? God, I feel like crap for not checking. Also, if you find any verbs in present tense, please forgive me. I have a habit of writing in present tense, and sometimes I forget when I'm not. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Clarke hated her. Clarke hated her and blamed her for her father’s death, and Lexa couldn’t help but agree.

“Don’t think like that, Lex. It was an accident! There was nothing more you could do,” Raven’s protests fell on deaf ears; devastating guilt made its way into Lexa’s chest, coiling around her heart, choking it, crushing it with its terrible weight.

“I… I don’t know, Raven. It feels like I could have somehow…” Lexa shook her head.

“Personal feelings aside, what Clarke told me and the others isn’t right,” Raven intervened, “I know she’s grieving, but this is bullshit,” she threw her hands up in annoyance.

“She came into my hospital room with O, Lincoln, and Anya, to ‘visit’, and what does she actually do? She storms into the room, yelling at Anya and Lincoln for ‘defending a murderer’, says some bullshit that they’re biased because they’re close to you, and literally doesn’t let them get any words in. Anya straight up lost her shit – and I can’t blame her, honestly; she managed to control herself and not just murder Clarke right then and there. Lincoln didn’t even stay to hear any more… he just left. I don’t think I ever saw him that furious in my life. He always tries to talk about everything and solve it peacefully, but I guess it was clear that that wasn’t what Clarke was doing.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and so I tried to explain to her that there aren’t any sides in this and that she’s being a bitch for making people choose between you and her. She got mad at me and said she never wanted to hear from me again. She hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts.”

“…Oh.”

Lexa’s voice trembled slightly, and her eyes had long ago stopped following Raven's movements, being instead fixated on a spot somewhere on the right of the thin white sheet covering her healing body.

Raven noticed how Lexa appeared smaller, having shrunk in on herself as if she was one word from breaking beyond repair.

“Lexa.”

Lexa continued to avoid her friend’s concerned gaze.

“Lexa, look at me.”

She slowly, reluctantly raised her eyes to meet Raven’s.

“You have nothing to blame yourself for, and I will repeat that until you actually hear me. Clarke wants to act out and yell at me for something that was outside any of our control? If that’s what she needs, she can have it. She’ll eventually process everything, and she’ll come back, or not,” Raven shrugged, pursing her lips, “but it wasn’t okay to try to turn your friends against you. That’s what you needed to get out of all that. It wasn’t your fault, Lexa.”

“Okay.”

“What surprised me is that O just… stood there, and she let Clarke say all those things. I know she didn’t agree, but- it was like she wasn’t even there. She didn’t even look at me, and that’s… that’s not O,” Raven frowned.

“I think- I think that Octavia is going through her own battle now, Raven. She was probably traumatized by the accident, and she might still be in shock,” Lexa tried to reassure her friend, knowing that if Raven was visibly distressed about something, it affected her more than she let on. They were similar in that way, Raven and Lexa.

“I know that, but whenever she had a problem, she told me about it, you know? Now she didn’t come visit me before coming with Clarke, she didn’t talk to me, ask about how I was. She didn’t- she didn’t look at me, and I felt…” Raven swallowed painfully, looking at the ceiling for a moment before taking a calming breath.

“Talk to her, Raven. I know you two are best friends- have been best friends way before you met Clarke and me,” Lexa paused, the mention of herself with Clarke making a hot, heavy sort of pain flare up in her chest, “Give her a bit of time. Octavia isn’t so good with sorting out her feelings.”

Lexa remembered the time when Octavia had been stomping angrily around their shared apartment during their college years because she had been unhappy with her major. It had taken her nearly two weeks until she broke down in the middle of one of their movie nights and realized the change she needed to make.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Raven admitted. She squinted at Lexa thoughtfully, pushing her lips out exaggeratedly. “You know? You’re more perceptive than I gave you credit for. Like, you’ve got that standoffish and critical look,” she said while pointing at Lexa’s form, “but I thought that was just your fancy-pants-lawyer attitude. Guess I was wrong.”

“You were,” Lexa said in a deadpan.

“Okay, you totally looked like Anya right there. It was scary,” Raven joked.

“Well, I’m off. Gotta go work my ass off in physical therapy so I can keep my goddess thighs – and ass – in perfect shape,” Raven winked. She turned her wheelchair around, moving towards the door, but then suddenly remembered something, and turned around.

“By the way, when are you starting therapy?”

A wave of anxiety shot through Lexa.

“Physical therapy, I mean.”

“O-oh. Uh, I think Anya said I was scheduled for a session with a doctor… Michael? Nick?” Lexa shook her head, “I don’t know, later in the afternoon,” she shrugged.

“Oh! That’s great! You better start working out again, those abs of yours – as gorgeous as they look – aren’t tattooed or painted on; you need to work on them. Just like me,” Raven finished with a smirk, leaving the room.

Lexa sighed heavily. She felt miserable and guilty and so, so, exhausted. Her life hadn’t been by any means easy, but now when she looked back upon her childhood years when she thought life was unendingly cruel and lonely, it didn’t seem so bad anymore. She would’ve preferred the silence from the kids at the orphanage who deemed her too weird than knowing her best friend hated her and tried to turn their friends against her.

And Jake… he was like a second father figure to Lexa, second only to Gustus. Jake had always been so kind to Lexa, even when she was an anxious mess as a teenager, sounding more like a robot than a human. He never treated Lexa any differently when she told him about her time at the orphanage, he didn’t look strangely at her when she worried about things that other kids her age didn’t even think about. He listened patiently, imparted his best advice, made her pancakes when she seemed down and gave her the warmest hugs.

To think that he was _gone_ , just like that… and that everyone – that _Clarke_ – had been grieving, while Lexa avoided looking at her amputated leg. She felt so childish for her behavior, for taking life for granted, for not taking more risks, not expressing her feelings more openly; it could have been her instead of Jake, and then would have people even known how much she cared about them? ( _Would Clarke know?)_

 

“Miss Woods?” a brunette nurse asks, poking her head in the room.

Lexa tried shaking the thoughts away. She looked up at the woman, and cleared her throat, forcing a neutral expression on her face.

“Yes, Maya?”

“Are you alright?” Maya asked, her voice full of concern.

“I- yes, Maya, why do you ask?”

“It’s just that… I knocked for a full minute, and you didn’t answer,” she elaborated, frowning slightly.

“Oh. I was just… lost in thought, that’s all. I am sorry for worrying you, but I’m fine,” Lexa responded with what she hoped was a reassuring smile, feeling her ears burn in embarrassment.

“Well, that’s good, then! You wouldn’t want to miss your first therapy session, would you, Miss Woods?” the young woman quickly recovered, her usual chipper attitude firmly back in place.

“Indeed, Maya. And I told you to call me Lexa; it’s only fair.”

“Yes, uh, L-Lexa. Let’s get you to the right room. I know these halls can be pretty confusing; this hospital is like a labyrinth, I swear. I kept getting lost in my first months here,” Maya talked while helping Lexa into her wheelchair, knowing how to put her at ease. Lexa laughed politely, trying to express her gratefulness for her nurse’s kindness.

 

“Aaand, here we are! Physical therapy. I’ll see you in an hour, Lexa,” Maya smiled softly, opening the door and letting Lexa go into the room herself.

“Thank you, Maya,” Lexa smiled, feeling Maya’s mood seep into her own. She moved inside the ‘workout’ room. It was spacious, and a set of parallel bars in the middle was its most imposing feature. A full-body mirror was fixed on one of the walls, while a stationary bike, a treadmill, some fitness balls, yoga mats, small weights, a treatment table, and various pieces of sports equipment that Lexa wasn’t familiar with were spread around the room.

“Well, you must be Lexa,” a gruff man with a long beard and tattoos – not unlike Gustus, but Lexa felt intimidated by him – greeted her. He let Lexa come closer to him before offering his hand. Lexa shook it strongly, doing her best to not appear intimidated.

“Good grip,” the doctor commented, “Hope you’re as determined when you do sit-ups, too.”

“Thank you, doctor-…”

“Call me Nyko,” he happily supplied.

( _So_ that _was the name.)_

“So let’s start with some basic exercises, see what you can do, and then…”

 

 

“…and those are the exercises you need to do at home every day. If there’s anything you forget, or if something changes and you feel like you can’t do any of them, or if you feel like they’re too easy… well, you have my number. Call me anytime, Lexa,” Nyko smiled, shaking her hand.

“Thank you, Nyko,” Lexa smiled back softly, feeling slightly hopeful for the first time in weeks. It seemed she wasn’t completely incapable of doing things on her own. Walking wasn’t on the table just yet, but if everything went well she was going to get fitted for a prosthesis in a few weeks, and then she’d work with Nyko on learning to walk again. She was glad that Nyko was her therapist; as intimidating as the man had seemed at first glance, he was friendly and very good at his job.

“See you soon, Lexa. Take care,” the man called after her as she left the room.

As she went into the hallway, Lexa found Anya waiting for her instead of her nurse.

“Hey, squirt. Holding up alright?” her sister greeted in her usual nonchalant manner.

“Yeah. It was pretty good, actually. I’ll get a new leg soon,” she informed Anya as they made their way back to Lexa’s room to pack her things.

“That’s good. You won’t be stuck in a chair for much longer.”

“Yeah.”

“Want to order some pizza when we get to my place?”

“Definitely.”

Down at the reception desk, Lexa signed the release papers and looked around for her favorite nurse. When she spotted the young woman, she waved her over.

“Maya, I’m glad I got to talk to you before I left.”

“Hi, Lexa. Me too, and I’m glad you get to go home. It isn’t very nice to be cooped up in a room for most of the day,” Maya answered knowingly.

“No, it isn’t, but you made it bearable. Thank you, really, for everything.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Maya smiled easily, then bent down and hugged Lexa who stiffened, not expecting the physical contact, but relaxing into it after a moment.

After saying her goodbyes to the doctors and nurses down at the reception, Lexa and Anya made their way out of the hospital.

“Let’s get you home, Lex.”

As they walked out through the double doors, Lexa felt the frigid February wind hit her face violently. Her mood was suddenly dampened as she remembered everything that had happened. It felt as if what she had managed to accomplish – a few simple physical exercises and a couple of conversations with doctors and nurses – were nothing at all compared to the long road to recovery that laid in front of her. She clenched her jaw, upset with herself for forgetting about Jake for a few hours. A tear escaped her eyes, and she swiped at it furiously.

“It’ll take us quite a long time until we get to my apartment,” Anya started, “so why don’t you call and order the pizza so it gets there around the same time as us?” she tried distracting Lexa.

“Sure. What do you want on yours? The usual?”

“Yeah, vegetarian for me. You still eat that disgusting thing you call a pizza?”

“Yup. Hello? I’d like to order one vegetarian pizza and one Hawaiian, please…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, that was the chapter! Don't hate me for the pineapple on pizza thing, but I read a clexa fic a while ago where Clarke orders like five pineapple pizzas because Lexa likes them, and then Lexa doesn't show up to the party or whatever that was... anyway, it stuck with me, and as prim and proper as Lexa is, I totally see her desecrating her pizza with pineapple. Still, if you wanna yell at me and be like "how dare you", you can totally do that in comments here or in asks on my tumblr at forest-blue.tumblr.com! Looking forward to reading your thoughts on this chapter :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa gets her new leg and learns to walk with it. She hits a block in her recovery. A long-awaited conversation happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the long wait, but I experimented with how I wrote my first draft of the chapter, and I actually wrote it down in TV episode format first. It was interesting and surprisingly helpful! Anyway, if you're interested in extra stuff like seeing some of how the chapter looks like written like a TV episode script, or visual references and other details about the characters and the world, head over to my Patreon (at forestblue - same username as here) and check it out! 
> 
> I hope there aren't too many mistakes in this, but I worked on it all day and I'm way too tired to be able to edit it any more than this.

Lexa’s speedy recovery meant that she got fitted for a prosthesis only a couple of weeks after she was discharged. With Raven’s help, her new leg was done in record time and had an extended range of features for Lexa to use later on for athletic purposes, after she learned how to walk with it.

As smoothly as everything had gone until then, it was not to continue in the same vein. Even though the prosthesis was the newest model, with countless genius modifications done to it by Raven, Lexa just couldn’t get used to it. She couldn’t walk more than a few paces before needing to steady herself against a wall or a piece of furniture. She had hit a block, both physical and mental, and she didn’t know how to get past it. Frustrated after countless attempts to walk without unofficial ‘crutches’, Lexa resigned herself and decided to stay inside Anya’s apartment at all times, not wanting anyone to witness her failure if she were to fall.

Lexa sat on Anya’s couch, eating muesli while rewatching _The Good Wife_. The doorbell rang, and Anya’s muffled voice came from the main bedroom, from where the ruffling of clothes could be heard, as well.

“Lexa, can you get the door? I’m getting dressed.”

Lexa sighed, looking towards the hall leading to the front door; it was a long way to go. She glanced at her prosthetic leg, pursing her lips. She dreaded having to use it, knowing her poor control over how she walked. After a few moments of hesitation, Lexa relented. She turned the TV off, got up, and took a steadying breath.

“Okay.”

( _She could do this._ )

She walked towards the entrance hall unsteadily, having to put a hand on the walls to balance herself more than a few times. By the time she reached the door, she was already exhausted and frustrated by her inability to walk properly. She opened the door to reveal Gustus, her big and bearded guardian, waiting patiently. When he saw her, his expression burst into a huge smile. He stepped forward and enveloped Lexa in a bear hug.

“Lexa! I’m so glad to see you up and about. You seem to be doing great, kid. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Gustus. It’s good to see you, too,” Lexa said, her muscles releasing some of the tension from the earlier effort. She stepped aside to let Gustus inside the apartment.

“How have you been, Lexa? You still going to physical therapy?”

Lexa shifted her weight from one foot to the other and back, both a sign of being uncomfortable and a remnant from physical therapy exercises.

“I’m doing… well. I still go to the hospital for sessions with Dr. Nyko, yes.”

Gustus nods approvingly.

“That’s good. With how quickly you’re progressing, I’m sure you’ll be asking me to let you come back to work in no time; you’re too much of a workaholic to stay put for too long,” he smiles encouragingly.

Lexa gives him a small smile back, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“But you know you should take all the time you need, Lexa. Anya and I are taking care of your cases, and there’s nothing we can’t handle. The most important thing is for you to get better, alright?”

Lexa averts her eyes.

“Yes, Gustus.”

She forced herself to look back up at her guardian- her father. Her throat constricted with emotion, but she pushed on.

“Thank you for everything. I’m so grateful for what you – both you and Anya – are doing for me. It’s… it means a lot.”

Gustus’s smile widened.

“There’s nothing to thank us for, kid. We’re family; we take care of each other,” he patted Lexa on her shoulder. After a moment, his eyes dimmed.

“Have you heard anything from Clarke?”

Lexa looked down at her feet and shook her head. Gustus frowned.

“I’m sorry about Clarke, kid. It’s a… very tough situation and she’s grieving right now, but I’m sure you two will figure it out eventually. You always do,” he tried.

Lexa’s expression was unreadable.

“Thank you… but I don’t think this is something that time can fix.”

A flash of pain crossed Lexa’s features but was gone as quickly as it appeared. She cleared her throat and tried to appear unaffected.

“Lexa,” Gustus started, “don’t think like that,” he sighed.

“It will all work out, you just have to believe. You just have to give it some time.”

Lexa nodded stiffly. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Anya finally came out of her bedroom dressed in a formal pantsuit. She hugged Gustus briefly in greeting, then went to the living room to retrieve a few manila envelopes and papers.

“Hey, Gustus. Sorry for the wait; I forgot to iron my shirts when I did the laundry,” Anya looked at her watch.

“Shit, it’s late.”

Anya turned to Lexa and gave her a quick goodbye hug.

“Gotta go, squirt. Don’t forget to walk around the house like your therapist said.”

Lexa rolled her eyes.

“Yes, mother. I will also finish my homework and do my chores.

“Atta girl,” Anya smirked; “See you later, squirt.”

“Bye, kid,” Gustus said as he ruffled Lexa’s hair before leaving.

When the door closed, Lexa sighed and leaned back against the wall. She walked back to the living room, sank down on the couch, and turned the TV back on, resuming her _The Good Wife_ marathon.

 

 

Lexa stood at one end of the parallel bars, scrutinizing the two long so-called ‘helpers’, while Nyko stood on a side watching her. Lexa was reluctant to begin walking; the parallel bars taunted her with their promise of stability, offering their unwavering support in her journey to the other side of the room.

“Come on, Lexa. You can do this. You’ve been walking this distance for weeks with the help of the bars. I have all the confidence you can do it without,” Nyko said in an attempt to pump her up.

Lexa nodded and swallowed heavily, preparing herself mentally for the task. She started walking slowly, with purpose, keeping her eyes trained straight ahead.

“That’s it, Lexa! You’re doing great!”

Lexa walked a few more paces, then wavered when stepping on her left foot. She instinctively reached a hand to steady herself on one of the bars.

Nyko sighed.

“Lexa, we’ve been over this. Just because you weren’t a hundred percent sure of that step doesn’t mean you should stop and steady yourself on the bar.”

Nyko walked towards his desk, sitting down, and motioning for Lexa to follow him.

“You need to get over the fear of falling. You haven’t even fallen _once_ ever since we started working. While I admire your progress and your determination to do well from the start, this isn’t going to help you.”

Lexa walked towards Nyko and sat on the chair in front of his desk.

“See? You just walked that distance without needing any help from bars or walls or anything else. Because you weren’t thinking about it; you were just doing it.”

Nyko got up from his chair and walked closer to Lexa, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“You think too much. You have to stop thinking and just start _doing_. You have to push yourself out of your comfort zone. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck hobbling around and never feeling confident in yourself.”

Lexa nodded, her cheeks flaming in embarrassment. She failed, and she needed a lecture from her therapist to realize it.

“I know I told you to walk around the house for the time being, but I don’t think you’ll be getting much further by only doing that. You have to go out – on the street – and walk.”

“But-”

“If you’re concerned about injuries, take a friend or a family member with you. But you must walk on your own. They can only lend you a hand if you fall.”

“I understand,” Lexa nodded, pursing her lips.

Nyko’s suggestion was not going to be an option for her; asking someone for help would only be a show of weakness on Lexa’s part. No, she had to do this on her own, if she were to do it at all.

 

 

Anya walked through the front door, deposited her bag and took her shoes off before walking towards the living room in search of Lexa. She was surprised to find her sister arranging the huge bookcase filled mostly with books on legal matters, science, and mechanics. Lexa moved from one shelf to another, standing on her tiptoes to reach the higher placed books, then squatting down to arrange them together with others on the bottom shelves. Anya had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn’t so tired that she had started to imagine things, as she had gotten used to finding Lexa lounging on the couch and watching TV, or working out on the floor at best.

“Lexa! What are you doing?”

Lexa stopped arranging the books and turned to greet her sister.

“Hey, Anya. Oh, I was just cleaning around here.”

Anya looked around the room to see that indeed, it was much cleaner and better organized than when she had left it in the morning.

“O-kay,” she says slowly. “Not that I’m complaining, but why are you cleaning?”

“Well, Nyko told me to get out of my comfort zone,” Lexa paused, “so I thought that cleaning the apartment might help me get used to balancing myself,” she explained, “and that I’d probably move in ways I don’t usually do,” she added.

Anya nods impressed.

“That’s good, squirt.”

Lexa frowned at the nickname.

“I’m glad you’re doing new things. I’m sure that staying inside other than when you take the bus to physical therapy isn’t too good for you.”

Lexa pursed her lips but otherwise did not answer.

“Anyway, we just won a case today – it was one of yours, by the way. Thanks for the mountain of notes you left, they were real lifesavers,” Anya pulled Lexa into a hug.

After Anya let her go, Lexa nodded a silent ‘you’re welcome’ – she never knew how to accept compliments.

“So, Echo and Luna invited me to go out to celebrate another win for the small people, and I thought since you did most of the work on this one, maybe you’d like to come with,” Anya said in an uncharacteristically soft tone, trying to coax Lexa into joining her.

“It’s just a drink or two, tops, since I gotta wake up early tomorrow for work,” Anya added.

Lexa sighed.

“I’m sorry, An. I’m really tired today. Maybe another time?”

Anya sighed in disappointment but nodded.

“Yeah, another time.”

 

 

Lexa was working out on the floor while continuing her _The Good Wife_ marathon. She was doing sit-ups as Anya poked her head in the doorway.

“Hey, squirt. We’re pretty much out of anything edible, so I’m heading out to buy some stuff. Wanna come with me to the store?”

Lexa looked at Anya but continued her workout routine.

“Just started working out,” she replied, “Sorry, An. Another time?”

Anya pursed her lips, annoyed at the clear avoidance tactics that Lexa was employing in order to not go out. She sighed.

“Yeah… another time.”

Anya left, and if she closed the front door a bit too loudly, Lexa didn’t notice, too focused on her workout routine.

 

 

Lexa looked for coffee through the cupboards in Anya’s kitchen, but couldn’t find any save for the half-teaspoonful of brown powder in the bag on the counter. An empty mug with brown rings on the bottom stood unwashed in the sink, a sign that Anya had drunk her coffee in the morning. However, judging by the look of the almost empty bag and the unwashed mug, Anya had probably been in a hurry in the morning, and might not have realized that they did not have any coffee left. Lexa got increasingly frustrated as she opened and closed cupboards, and opened them again because she forgot which ones she already searched.

After opening the same cupboard for the third time in a row, she pushed it closed forcefully and slammed her fist on the kitchen counter. Her jaw was clenched painfully, and her whole body was tensed up. She puffed out an annoyed breath and went to throw away the empty coffee bag.

She looked towards the hall, wondering whether she should even consider going out to the grocery store. Her need for coffee won the battle against her fear of falling in public and making a fool out of herself. She went to the entrance hall, took her keys and her wallet, and left the apartment in search of caffeine.

 

Lexa walked out of the apartment complex and looked around. Very few people were out at that hour, as it was still relatively early, and Anya lived in a pretty quiet area. She could spot a girl jogging and an old couple taking their dog out for a walk. Lexa started walking slowly, very aware of her prosthetic leg, feeling as uncomfortable as always with it in public, even though no one could see it through her loose sweatpants.

She put her hand in her pocket to check the time, only to realize her phone wasn’t there.

“Crap. I forgot my phone,” she looked briefly back towards the complex but decided not to return for her phone. She wasn’t going to be gone for too long; even though she didn’t walk very quickly, it still wasn’t a walk longer than twenty minutes to the grocery shop.

Her foot caught on a crack in the sidewalk and Lexa suddenly found herself falling forward. Lexa put her hands in front of her to break her fall, but she still hit the pavement hard enough to get a small grunt of pain out of her. Lexa moved to sit back up.

Lexa couldn’t get up. She moved from side to side, trying to find the right position to rise from, but nothing worked. She hadn’t ever fallen before, so she didn’t know how to get up after falling, either.

The girl she saw jogging earlier stopped and reached a hand to help her get up.

“Are you alright, miss? Do you need any help getting up?”

In a sudden fit of anger, Lexa turned her head quickly and yelled.

“No! Leave me be. I can do it myself!”

The girl stepped away, hands up in apology.

“Woah. Sorry, my bad. I’ll leave you alone, then,” she said as she started walking away.

Lexa resumed her struggle. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, from both effort and frustration. Lexa grunted loudly in annoyance, a low, almost animal-like sound escaping her mouth. A tear trickled down her cheek. Lexa swiped at it, then put her head in her hands, trying to calm down.

Her labored breaths soon calmed, and Lexa felt ready to try again. Slowly, but surely, Lexa managed to get up from the ground. Exhausted, she dusted herself off and sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. Realizing the important feat that she had just achieved, she let a big smile take over her face. She kept on walking towards the store, not even considering going back to the apartment without coffee.

 

 

As she came in through the front doors of the apartment complex carrying a small grocery bag. She stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed Lincoln leaning against the wall next to the door to Anya’s apartment.

“…Lincoln?”

Lincoln’s head snapped up at Lexa’s surprised voice, and he floundered in turn, not knowing what to say or do in response. He shook himself out of it and smiled tentatively at Lexa.

“Lexa! Hi. I, uh, I wasn’t expecting you to be… I thought… well, in any case, I’m glad you’re already walking around.”

Lexa recovered from her shock, lifting her chin and straightening her back. She clenched her jaw.

“What are you doing here, Lincoln?”

Lincoln sighed and let his head drop in shame.

“I’ve come to apologize. And explain. Can we talk inside?”

 

 

After depositing the precious bag of coffee in the kitchen and making some for them both to drink, Lexa invited Lincoln to sit on the couch in the living room. He sat gingerly next to her, careful to leave as much space as he could between them, not knowing how Lexa felt about personal space considering her anger directed towards him. He looked around the room, trying to figure out how to begin his apology. He sighed. The best way to do it was to just get to the point.

“I’m sorry, Lex. I’m sorry I didn’t come to visit you sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t call you or text you to let you know what was going on, and I’m sorry about what happened. It’s,” he shook his head, clearly upset.

“What happened… it’s not fair. The things Clarke said… god, I never thought I’d ever hear anything like that come out of her mouth. I was so angry at her that I wanted to slap her. I still can’t believe she said those horrible things about you, no matter the reason.”

He paused.

“I suppose you want to know why I disappeared and didn’t visit you sooner.”

Lexa put her coffee on the table and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“I would like to know that, yes.”

“That day at the hospital, I came to visit you and Raven,” he said, then waited for Lexa to respond in any way. She nodded.

“I made the mistake of going to Raven’s room first. Anya was already there; she told me Clarke was coming, so I waited for her. I wanted to hug her and tell her I was sorry about Jake.”

Lexa flinched slightly at Lincoln’s mention of Jake and swallowed painfully. She lifted her chin, trying to stay strong.

Lincoln laughed humorlessly.

“Well, I didn’t get to hug her, that’s for sure. Clarke stormed in all angry and only got angrier when she saw me and Anya there. She started yelling at us, asked us how we could bear being in contact with a murderer.”

Lexa felt tears surging to her eyes. Her hands started shaking slightly.

“We tried to talk to her, tell her she wasn’t thinking straight, but she just wouldn’t hear any of it. I left when it was apparent that she wasn’t going to listen to anything I said.”

“I was way too angry right then. I couldn’t come visit you like that. And I guess I was upset with you, too.”

“With me? Why?” Lexa managed to ask after clearing her throat.

“Yeah. You… you put yourself in danger to keep the others safe. And I was mad at you for that because I could’ve lost you. But after a few days, when I had the chance to cool down, I realized I couldn’t be mad at you because I would have done the same.”

“So why didn’t you come _then_?”

“I was… ashamed. I thought that it took me way too long to figure it out, and I felt like just coming to visit wasn’t going to be enough to make it up to you.”

Lincoln put a hand into the pocket of his jacket, taking out a blue ribbon and giving it to Lexa.

“But I thought that maybe… I could do something that would make me deserving of your forgiveness, so I participated in a 5k run that raised funds for your old orphanage.”

As Lexa inspected the ribbon, Lincoln laughed.

“I didn’t do very well, as you can see, as I hadn’t done anything like this in a long time, so I only got that participation ribbon.”

Lexa stood silent.

“Then I thought, that isn’t enough. And I found out that another run, a 10k this time, was being held in Arkadia last weekend. So I trained for it, and…”

Lincoln took a bronze medal out of another pocket and put it around Lexa’s neck.

 “Third place isn’t nearly as well as you would’ve done, but I thought that it was pretty good for me. You know I’ve always hated running.”

Both Lincoln and Lexa laugh.

“Yeah, you’ve always been more of a ‘punching’ guy, not so much of a jogging guy.”

“Exactly.”

Lexa put a hand on Lincoln’s shoulder. Her smile was watery, but it was genuine.

“Thank you for this, Lincoln. It’s… really thoughtful of you. I had… I had actually wanted to participate in the Arkadia run. It raised funds for-”

“-for young transgender people that can’t afford to transition on their own, I know,” Lincoln finished.

“I know how deeply you care about people, Lex. That’s why I was so mad when Clarke acted the way she did. You’ve always put others first, helped them with all that you could. You deserved a conversation, a chance to say your piece, at least, before she decided to just cut you out of her life like that.”

Lexa’s tears flowed down her cheeks, and this time she didn’t try to stop them as the finality of Clarke’s decision finally hit her. Lincoln hugged her tightly as she sobbed, rubbing soothing circles on Lexa’s back.

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay, Lex. It’s gonna be okay.”

 

 

A few nights later, Lexa found herself unable to fall asleep, so she started working out on the bedroom floor. Even though her muscles ached and her breathing was erratic, she didn’t stop until her muscles burned from the effort and the beads of sweat on her skin shined in the barely-there light provided by the moon and the stars.

As Lexa was trying to calm her breaths, her phone buzzed once. Confused as to why anyone would text her so late – and expecting to find some advertisement from the phone company – Lexa got up from the floor and took her phone from the nightstand. She dropped the phone as soon as she unlocked it, Clarke’s name taunting her in big, blocky letters. Lexa reaches down shakily to pick it up. If her heart beat erratically from the earlier workout, Lexa briefly wondered if it was even biologically possible for it to beat so quickly and so loudly in her ears.

Lexa unlocked the phone for a second time, opening the text from Clarke.

_Come over. I need you._

Lexa quickly pocketed her phone, pulled a hoodie over her tank-top, and left the bedroom in a hurry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAH! Finally! A wild Clarke appears! Well, not in the flesh just yet, but we'll be seeing A LOT of her in the next chapter, don't worry ;) (and what do I mean by A LOT? Well, you'll have to see).  
> As always, thanks for reading, and come on tumblr at forest-blue if you want to yell at me or ask me about anything!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa reacts to Clarke's text. Clarke finally appears in the story. And stuff happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I apologize for the longer wait than usual, but this chapter kinda kicked my ass. At first, I didn't know how I wanted this to pan out, so I wrote down a version, then decided against it and had to re-write the whole chapter. So, sorry again, but I hope the contents of the chapter make up for it ;)

_Come over. I need you._

Clarke’s text spurred Lexa into action. She pocketed her phone, pulled on a faded old university hoodie over her damp tank, took her wallet and keys, and ran out of Anya’s apartment.

Once outside, Lexa was hit by the cool night air and stopped. What was she doing? Was she planning on just running all the way to Clarke’s apartment, which was over two miles away? She looked around for an alternative. The bus station was deserted, and a quick look at her phone told Lexa that no buses would stop there for another few hours.

She pursed her lips; this was not good. Clarke needed her. She ran towards the next big intersection, stopping a few yards away from the famous _Grounders_ club. Cabs were lined up on the curb outside the club, so if she could- then maybe…

Lexa pushed through a crowd of young people waiting in line to get inside, giving the bouncer who insisted on checking their IDs impatient looks. As she moved closer to the yellow car, Lexa stretched out her hand to open the front passenger door. A shot of pure panic rippled through her body. Lexa retracted her now shaking hand and turned away from the taxi. There was no way she could get in that thing.

She took a steadying breath, then pulled out her phone again. She knew she should call Clarke and ask her what was wrong; and if it was urgent – well, then she would just run as fast as her legs could take her.

A thought made its way unbidden into Lexa’s mind; what if Clarke hadn’t even meant to text _her_? What if it was a mistake, and Lexa showed up in front of Clarke’s door, and _Clarke_ … she wouldn’t be happy. No, she had to call Clarke and make sense of the whole thing.

But what if Clarke couldn’t talk? What if she was sick and couldn’t speak, or was in some other abysmal situation and Lexa’s phone call would only make it worse? And what if Clarke wasn’t even at her apartment?

As her lungs started to burn, Lexa realized she had been running towards Clarke the whole time. She stopped to get her bearings and immediately recognized the area. She was only a few blocks away from Clarke’s building. There was no point in calling Clarke now, she mused; she was already there, she might as well go and see if Clarke needed her help.

She walked the rest of the way, trying to get her breathing under control; she wouldn’t be of any help to Clarke unless she calmed down. And yet, as much as Lexa told herself that, she felt her throat constrict, and a sinking feeling grew deep in her stomach with every step that brought her closer to Clarke.

She quickly tapped the code she had memorized long ago, and the building’s front door unlocked. As Lexa walked up the stairs to Clarke’s door, she made a last-ditch effort to calm herself. She forced her breaths to slow, straightened her posture, and clenched her fists in an attempt to feel more in control over her shaking hands.

 

 

Lexa approached the door and knocked exactly three times, then waited. Nearly a minute passed without an answer, and just as she raised her fist to knock again, she heard the lock disengage and the door opened, revealing a frazzled Clarke in a white t-shirt and blue pajama pants.

Lexa took in a sharp breath. Clarke looked – well, she looked the _same_ , but at the same time, completely _different_. Her once blonde hair was now blood red, and her eyes seemed duller than Lexa had ever seen them. Clarke, in turn, took in Lexa’s appearance; the blonde’s – redhead’s? – eyes darted from Lexa’s tired eyes down to her lips, and lower, stopping for a few moments on the faded university logo on Lexa’s chest. Clarke paused then, and swallowed, as a dark, indecipherable look passed over her features for just a moment.  She met Lexa’s eyes once again and stared.

“Clarke…” Lexa barely managed to find her voice as it cracked around the sounds of the woman’s name.

Clarke’s eyes darted down to Lexa’s lips and she released a soft exhale. Her hand tightened on the door as she appeared in thought for a few moments, and then she opened it wider, stepping aside to let Lexa come in.

Lexa walked in hesitantly, still not sure what to expect, as she didn’t even know if Clarke actually wanted her there in the first place. Clarke hadn’t said anything to indicate the opposite, however, so Lexa felt a bit reassured, glad to have come after all.

Clarke closed the door behind them and put the door chain in its place. As Lexa turned around to try to ask Clarke why she called her there, she found herself much closer to Clarke than she expected. Clarke’s eyes were focused on Lexa’s lips as she advanced on the other woman, effectively backing Lexa up against the wall. Raising her darkened eyes to meet Lexa’s, Clarke licked her lips and placed her hands on Lexa’s waist, grabbing at the fabric of the worn green hoodie.

For a few moments, all Lexa could do was breathe and stare as Clarke’s face inched closer and closer to her own.

A whiff of Clarke’s heavily alcohol-infused breath hit her nose, and then Lexa understood. She reached out with her palms, pushing Clarke away as firmly as she could manage, though her ragged breath belied her actual desires.

“Clarke, no,” Lexa started, “you don’t want this,” she tried convincing the woman.

Staring straight into Clarke’s dark blue eyes proved to be much too difficult for Lexa’s quickly waning self-restraint, so she averted her eyes, focusing them instead on her own hands that pressed on Clarke’s chest, keeping her at bay.

 _Big mistake_.

“ _Lexa…_ ”

At hearing her name come out in that low, raspy voice, Lexa couldn’t help but turn her stare to Clarke’s slightly parted lips, and then back to her eyes.

“Please, Lex. I need you,” Clarke tried again, tightening her grip on Lexa’s waist as she once again started to close the distance between them.

As their foreheads touched, Lexa closed her eyes and took a shaky breath.

“Clarke, you’re drunk. You don’t really want this.”

 _You don’t really want me_ , a small voice in Lexa’s mind supplied.

Clarke suddenly grew more determined as she kept Lexa’s stare.

“Lex, I know what I want,” she slurred; “I-I know _who_ I want,” she corrected, “I want _you_.”

A tear fell down Lexa’s cheek as she pushed their lips together herself, not willing to let Clarke see her cry. Her actions were immediately rewarded with a sigh from Clarke, who eagerly allowed Lexa to deepen the kiss. Lexa’s hands came to be in Clarke’s hair, fingers combing through the red locks and tugging at them, coaxing soft moans from Clarke with their soft but purposeful movements. Clarke’s hands hadn’t stayed idle either, having slipped under Lexa’s hoodie and trailing their way up to her chest, kneading Lexa’s breasts through the fabric.

Clarke’s boldness took Lexa by surprise, earning a soft ‘oh’ from the woman, effectively breaking their heated kiss. Clarke chased Lexa’s mouth as she snaked her hands under Lexa’s tank as well, coming into contact with Lexa’s heated and sweaty skin. Goosebumps erupted in the wake of the trail of Clarke’s fingers as she moved them higher and higher past Lexa’s abdomen to reach her breasts once again, this time without any hindering fabric in the way.

Lexa shuddered at feeling Clarke’s fingers on her hardening nipples and tugged on the woman’s hair hard enough to get a loud groan of pleasure out of her.

“Bedroom,” Clarke murmured with half-lidded eyes.

Lexa could do nothing but comply, letting herself be dragged anywhere Clarke wanted. She didn’t care if that was the bed, or the kitchen counter, the sofa, the bathtub, or even the floor. She needed Clarke, and Clarke needed _her_ , and that was all that mattered.

Clarke’s bedroom was a mess, but Lexa didn’t get to look around too much, as Clarke tugged her hoodie up, taking it off alongside the white tank underneath. Lexa felt self-conscious for a few moments, before Clarke unceremoniously took off her own shirt to reveal her bare chest, and pulled Lexa towards her for a bruising kiss.

This touch of heated skin on skin felt different, almost electric. The feel of Clarke’s breasts against her own sent a rush of heat and wetness straight to Lexa’s core, and she felt her leg start trembling from the new sensation. Clarke abandoned Lexa’s lips in favor of her neck, kissing and licking and marking its way down to Lexa’s breasts. When Clarke’s tongue swiped against her hard nipple, Lexa gasped, tugging at Clarke’s hair with less restraint.

Clarke stopped and pushed her against the bedroom wall impatiently, steadying herself with a hand on the wall, while the other left feather-light touches down Lexa’s chest, grazing the other hardened nipple, then down her belly, reaching the waistband of Lexa’s pants. Clarke boldly slipped her hand under it and teased Lexa through the thin fabric of her panties, finding them soaked through.

Lexa’s moans spurred Clarke on as she made soft, slow circles with her fingers, enjoying the eager verbal responses she could coax out of the woman. As Lexa’s moans turned more desperate, and she murmured a soft ‘ _Clarke_ ’, the woman complied with Lexa’s unvoiced request and slipped her fingers past her underwear.

Both women gasped as Clarke’s fingers moved through Lexa’s dripping folds. Clarke then turned her attention to Lexa’s clit, circling and teasing at the bundle of nerves until Lexa’s hips in tandem with Clarke’s movements instinctively. So close to the edge, Lexa cried out as Clarke finally entered her. Lexa’s frantic moans and pleads increased in both frequency and volume as she rode Clarke’s fingers closer to orgasm. As Clarke started using her thumb to circle Lexa’s clit while pumping into her, Lexa’s hip thrusts abandoned their rhythm, falling into that uncontrollable shudder as white, hot pleasure exploded and coursed through her body, coating Clarke’s fingers with even more wetness and making Lexa’s cunt clench around her.

Lexa took her hands out of Clarke’s hair and grabbed at her shoulders instead to keep herself upright as she rode out her orgasm, Clarke’s deft fingers working inside her softly to prolong her high. Finally, Clarke slowed her movements to a halt, and Lexa let out shaky breaths in an attempt to calm down as she came down from her high. When Clarke pulled her fingers out, Lexa felt a strange emptiness and then almost collapsed from the surprise of seeing Clarke bring one of her fingers to her mouth experimentally, licking it clean.

“ _Fuck_.”

It echoed around the room paired with Clarke’s appreciative moan as she tasted Lexa on her fingers. In moments that seem to drag on indefinitely, Clarke licked all of her fingers clean, her eyes turning dangerously dark as she stared directly at Lexa, taking in her disheveled and just-fucked look.

With enough time to get her breathing under control, and with a hunger she didn’t know she could feel, Lexa grabbed Clarke for a deep kiss, moaning when she tasted herself on Clarke’s tongue. She pushed Clarke towards the bed, stopping just shy of the bed’s edge, lowering herself in front of Clarke and locking her fingers on the waistband of her pants.

Lexa looked back up at Clarke, silently asking for consent, but didn’t even need to ask anything as Clarke rasped out a choked ‘ _please_ ’. She removed Clarke’s pants and panties and was suddenly assaulted by the heady scent of the woman’s arousal. Lexa came back up, then guided Clarke gently to lie down on her back, before positioning herself between Clarke’s legs. She lowered herself until her face was centimeters away from Clarke’s cunt, and stopped to admire how beautiful Clarke looked from this position – legs spread wide open, her dark eyes silently pleading with Lexa to touch her dripping wet core.

Lexa had apparently been staring for too long, as Clarke’s hands came to her hair, and she felt a sharp tug at the back of her head as Clarke pulled her mouth where she needed it most. As Lexa licked through her folds for the first time, Clarke cried out in pleasure, bucking her hips and getting Lexa’s tongue to swipe at her sensitive clit. Lexa used her tongue to circle around Clarke’s clit, then sucked on it, the woman’s loud moans emboldening her mouth.

She slid her tongue through Clarke’s folds, slipping in and out of the woman’s quivering cunt, making Clarke’s hands clench in her hair.

“Lexa, _please_.”

The request was all Lexa needed to hear before turning her mouth’s attention back on the woman’s clit, sucking on it softly. She felt it start pulsating as Clarke cried out once more, her whole body shaking with the orgasm.

Lexa licked her lips and came back up to rest next to Clarke, collapsing on the bed in pleased exhaustion. She heard Clarke’s breath even out as the woman fell asleep, and Lexa sighed in contentment, before the reality of what had just happened hit her.

Clarke had been drinking, she was drunk, and Lexa had been just a booty call. What had just transpired did not erase the fact that she was the one driving the car that hit the one Jake was driving. It did not erase the fact that _she_ was the one responsible for his death.

Lexa felt disgusted with herself, and couldn’t handle lying next to Clarke after she had just let Clarke make such a huge drunken mistake. She got out of bed, picked up the discarded pieces of clothing, and put them on. As she reached the bedroom door, she turned around and looked at Clarke’s naked sleeping form. Lexa walked back to the bed, turned Clarke on a side and draped a blanket over her, then decided against leaving, just in case she got sick throughout the night and needed help.

She went to the kitchen, put some water to boil for herself, and filled a glass with cold water while she waited. She rummaged for an aspirin, and brought the pill and the filled glass to the bedroom, placing them on the bedside table next to Clarke.

Lexa fixed herself a cup of jasmine tea – her favorite; a pang of nostalgia hit her in the chest when she found the almost full box in Clarke’s cupboard. Clarke herself wasn’t a tea person, and neither were any of their friends, but she always had that specific brand of jasmine tea that Lexa liked best in her kitchen. Lexa made her way to the living room, sat on the sofa, and sipped at her tea.

What was she going to do next? How could she explain what had happened to Anya, or to anyone else? No, Clarke probably wouldn’t want anyone to know about what she had done while drunk. Lexa would say nothing, and would follow Clarke’s lead, whatever that was going to be, and however painful it would be to her. If Clarke wanted to forget the night completely, then Lexa- well, she couldn’t forget it, but she would pretend it hadn’t happened.

If Clarke was willing to hear her out… what would Lexa even say? ‘I’m sorry’? She knew that she blamed herself for Jake’s death as much as Clarke did, so there wasn’t really anything she could do to erase that. She couldn’t blame Clarke for not wanting to be around her; Lexa didn’t want to be around herself either, but that wasn’t possible.

As Lexa mused about the possibilities, she heard Clarke shuffle out of the bedroom, and move quickly towards the bathroom, barely closing the door before muffled sounds of retching were heard through the door.

Lexa rushed to the bathroom door but froze up. She didn’t know if she should go in and help Clarke, or if she should just hang back and wait for a sign that the woman couldn’t handle it herself. Thankfully, the vomiting stopped soon after, and Lexa could hear Clarke cleaning up before she opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

Both women froze. Clarke’s eyes widened when they found Lexa’s, and after a sharp intake of breath, the hallway was completely silent. Clarke blinked, and the spell was broken. Her nostrils flared and her eyes hardened, but it was clear that Clarke was too exhausted to put real hatred in her stare – if there was any hatred there to begin with, of which Lexa had no doubt. Clarke raised her chin and clenched her jaw, looking at Lexa distrustfully.

“Clarke,” she tried.

“This changes nothing,” Clarke barked out disdainfully, then-

“Get out of my house.”

Lexa felt the words hit her straight in the gut, tears springing to her eyes. She continued to stare at Clarke, unwilling to show any more signs of weakness.

Clarke huffed.

“Fine. You know where the door is. Excuse me.”

And with that, Clarke turned on her heel and walked quickly to the bedroom, firmly closing the door behind her.

Lexa couldn’t help the choked gasp that escaped her throat, and she had to place a steadying hand against the wall to prevent herself from falling to her knees. Her good leg felt severely weakened, and she didn’t know if the exhaustion had finally caught up to her, of if it was a direct result of Clarke’s harsh words slashing at Lexa with enough power to _physically_ impair her.

She walked shakily to the front door, using the walls as helping crutches just as she had the weeks before, when she still wasn’t confident enough in her ability to walk with a prosthesis. _Well_ , she was _definitely_ able to walk, and run for over two miles, and apparently, get fucked while standing up.

The images that appeared in her mind at the thought made her sick, and Lexa did her best to shake them off. She took the door chain off, opened the door, and stepped out of Clarke’s apartment – possibly for the last time, she thought regretfully. Lexa turned around and took her keychain out of her pocket, picked the worn golden key, and inserted it in the lock, securing Clarke’s door. She placed a hand against it, closed her eyes, and allowed the tears in her eyes to stain her cheeks freely.

Lexa didn’t know how long she stood in front of Clarke’s apartment while she sobbed, but by the time she had managed to calm herself somewhat and exit the building, the sun had just started to rise. She went to sit at the bus station, swiped her bus card mechanically, took a seat, and stared out the window, feeling strangely empty and disconnected from herself and from the world.

She almost missed getting out at the correct stop, and then nearly fell over as she stumbled over a crack in the pavement. Her vision seemed blurry, even though she saw everything clearly. The gray concrete of the buildings seemed even duller than usual as Lexa walked past them and entered the apartment complex.

Her keys fell as she fished them out of her pocket, and she had to bend down to pick them up before finally inserting the right key into the lock and entering the apartment.

“Lexa!”

Lexa raised her eyes slowly to meet Anya’s panicked ones.

“I was going to call the police! Where were you?! What happened?!”

Lexa flinched slightly at her sister’s loud interrogation and simply shook her head, not having the energy or the will to explain.

“I’m fine, Anya,” she answered in an empty tone.

Anya’s eyes widened and she huffed incredulously.

“Please, An. I just want to sleep,” Lexa said, exhausted.

Anya pursed her lips but nodded.

“Fine, go sleep. But we’ll talk when I get back from work.”

Lexa said nothing as she made her way to the guest bedroom. She undressed, took her prosthesis off, then put on a loose t-shirt, a fresh pair of underwear and some shorts before lying down on the bed and falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally blame the smut for this taking me so long to write. I've never written smut before, so I was kind of anxious about that, but then after I started writing, it wouldn't stop? So I think I did fine. I hope, at least. Uh, yeah, so leave a comment here and tell me what you thought of it, or come over on tumblr at forest-blue and leave me a message there!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa are at different places in their lives. We see some of what both are going through. Some characters return, others make a first physical appearance. Some progress is made on both sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Thank the writing gods! I finally managed to finish this monster of a chapter. The events of this chapter have been bothering me for weeks. It was very hard to make it work, as in some ways it could be seen as a filler chapter if it wasn't written well enough. And it's so much more than a filler chapter. Everything that happens in the story at all times is important.  
> Also, the chapter stands at over 5.5k words (my longest chapter yet!), so I hope this makes up for the long wait somewhat. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end of the chapter for some more notes :)
> 
> PS: I apologize for any mistakes; I'm my own beta-reader.

As the sunlight filtering through the curtains became too strong to ignore, Clarke groaned and decided there was no point in trying to get back to sleep; the sun wouldn’t let her (the _bastard_ ). Her eyes kept stubbornly shut, she massaged her temples, trying to assuage the pulsating headache.

After a few minutes that didn’t do anything to help her get used to the terrible feeling of the hangover, Clarke finally opened her eyes. She squinted at the too bright light, feeling her headache getting worse by the second. She needed to take something, _now_.

Clarke turned her head towards the nightstand, wanting to check the time on her phone. Instead, her gaze landed on the glass of water and aspirin that were dutifully waiting for her. A wave of nausea hit Clarke the second she realized what that meant. She shot up from bed and ran to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet to throw up again.

Not having anything else to throw up after she had already done so during the night, Clarke had to go through the disgusting motions of dry heaving. She took a few deep breaths to calm down. She then raised unsteadily, rinsed her mouth and brushed her teeth, but neither the sour taste in her mouth nor the sick feeling in her stomach went away.

(If they felt suspiciously similar to guilt, Clarke didn’t think much about them.)

Truthfully, Clarke hadn’t been thinking much of anything, lately. She was pointedly avoiding anything reminding her of the accident, going as far as to leave her mother’s calls unanswered, taking off the watch her father gave her – the watch she had dutifully worn for almost a decade – and not venturing in the outside world other than for necessities, lest something dig up a painful – or worse, _happy_ – memory of her father.

Her paints and pencils went untouched, too. Clarke couldn’t find it in herself to do something she loved, not when she couldn’t find a reason for which she should be happy enough to do it. Her art was something that Jake had supported wholeheartedly, buying Clarke sketchbooks and pencils and paints on every occasion – and, like he used to say, ‘Tuesday is an occasion, too, Clarke’.

Tears welled up in her eyes at the memory, but she didn’t let them fall. She had cried enough in the first days. She had cried herself out, and nothing had changed. She hadn’t felt any lighter, any _happier_ ; how could she? How could she be happy when someone else was _dead_ , and couldn’t ever be happy again? When she _loved_ that person, when he had been one of her pillars, one of her biggest supporters?

(If Lexa appeared in her mind at the thought, Clarke pretended she didn’t.)

Clarke sighed and walked back to her bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. She stared at the pill, her body tense and unmoving.

“Come on, Clarke. It’s just a pill,” she tried reasoning with herself.

Clenching her jaw and taking a deep breath, Clarke finally took the pill and swallowed it with the water. She got up and took the empty glass with her to put it in the kitchen sink, already feeling a bit better due to the thought of the aspirin’s future effects.

Clarke’s kitchen was a mess. Boxes upon boxes of pizza and take-out were piled on top of the trash, a testament to how long she had gone without going outside, even just to throw them away. She ignored them as always, going only to place the glass in a sink filled with cutlery and not much else; there was no point in using up plates when the take-out boxes were just fine to eat from.

She made herself a cup of coffee, stirred in two teaspoons of sugar, and a bit of milk that had thankfully not expired yet. Clarke took a sip and sighed in pleasure. Content with her morning drink, she made her way to the living room, intent on turning her TV on, ordering some pizza, and losing herself in other people’s fictional dramas.

The easel standing pitifully in the corner surrounded by various paint supplies in complete disarray caught her attention instead. Clarke moved towards it almost unwillingly, as if she was being sucked in towards it by some unseen force. Touching the empty canvas laid out on the easel with her free hand, Clarke felt the sudden urge to paint. She held herself off for just a few minutes, so she could order a pizza. She would need to eat soon enough.

Clarke put her mug on the coffee table nearby, then kneeled and took a bottle filled with sink water, pouring some of it in a paint-stained cup whose purpose had been holding paint water for a very long time.

She took her widest brush and set it aside, picked out a few smaller brushes, then some acrylics. It didn’t surprise her when she ended up with reds and greys; if she was surprised at the choice of green, she chalked it up to the idea that green complemented red, and that was that.

After she opened her paints, Clarke was gone in her own world. Angry streaks appeared on the canvas as if someone else was painting them on and Clarke herself was merely a spectator. Only, at the same time, she felt a freedom that she hadn’t in months. A freedom she had been denying herself.

All of Clarke’s anger was pouring out onto the canvas, staining it with all the feelings that she didn’t admit to herself or to anyone else. Red bled into green, and the green stood there stoically, letting itself be soiled by it. The dark red background made way for the pale ashen face of a green-eyed _monster_. Its eyes stared straight ahead, surrounded by blood-red war paint that streaked down its – _her_ – face, like bloody tears of anger.

Insistent knocking shook Clarke out of her zone. She blinked, trying to figure out why someone was at the door. When she remembered the pizza, she took a few bills from her wallet and sprinted to the door. Apologizing to the pizza boy silently in the form of a big tip, Clarke took her pizza and closed the door. She went back to the living room, placing the pizza box on the table, then turned to face her unfinished creation.

Something was missing. Her mouth looked too soft, was out of place even though it was set in a straight, unwavering line. Clarke unwittingly copied the expression, teeth grinding in barely restrained anger. Staring at it, at _her_ , made Clarke feel sick again. She took her widest brush and a tube of black paint, and streaked across the mouth with a thick line of pure black, silencing _her_ indefinitely.

Clarke took a few steps back, then, to appraise her work. It wasn’t what she usually painted, it wasn’t a colorful landscape, or a realistic portrait, or a charcoal sketch filled with life. But it was real, it was raw, it made her feel something, and it looked _good_.

Satisfied with her painting, Clarke let it dry while she ate her pizza while watching reruns of dramas on TV.

 

Lexa was surprised that she woke up when the sun had already been up for quite some time; not only that, she actually felt _well-rested_ for once. She had taken a big hit from her sort-of confrontation with Clarke the previous night, but at least she wasn’t drowning in ‘what-if’s anymore. Clearly, her – former – best friend wanted nothing to do with her after everything that happened.

(Lexa understood, but she would’ve been lying if she pretended like it didn’t hurt.)

But life went on. She had sat on her hands, ignoring her responsibilities, her job, for months. It was time to rein her emotions in, suck it up, do whatever was needed to return to her normal life. There were adjustments to be made, as her life couldn’t be her old ‘normal’ anymore, but Lexa would adjust. She always did.

(Lexa always adjusted, but she would’ve been lying if she pretended like it didn’t break a little of herself every time.)

She shook herself out of it; now was not the time to dwell on the past.

Lexa called Gustus, letting him know that she was going to return to the law firm, beginning next week. She asked him to send her any new developments on the cases she had been previously assigned to, as she wanted to finish what she had started. She didn’t need to rely on others for help anymore, so she wanted to get rid of any crutches she still had as soon as possible.

“If you’re sure,” he replied with a neutral tone, though Lexa knew he was preparing to argue against it.

“You know I never make decisions without thoroughly thinking them through.”

Her sharp statement left no room for arguments, though she still felt compelled to explain herself.

“Look,” she sighed, “I’ve been thinking about coming back to work for a couple of weeks now, ever since I managed to get past the mental barrier that was stopping me from walking properly with my prosthesis.”

Even though she could not see Gustus, she swore she _felt_ him soften.

“I know, kiddo,” he sighed in return. “I wasn’t going to stop you from coming in, that’s your choice. I just wanted you to be sure, to be ready.”

“And I thank you for your concern, but I’m fine returning to work.”

After that, he gave up on trying to convince her to take some more time, knowing that when Lexa was determined to do something, her resolve was as unmovable as a mountain.

Finishing up the call, Lexa realized her own skin felt… uncomfortable, somehow. She remembered the state she had returned to the apartment in, having had neither the energy nor the willpower to clean herself in the early morning. Mildly disgusted with herself, she went into the bathroom to take a long shower and scrub her skin thoroughly. She was infinitely grateful that her prosthesis was waterproof, as she didn’t know how she would have managed without it. She sent a quick mental ‘thank you’ to the manufacturers for their advanced model, and to Raven for her amazing modifications.

Half an hour later, Lexa emerged from the bathroom with clean, reddened skin, feeling much better. There was still a slight knot in her stomach that probably wasn’t going away anytime soon, but she didn’t let herself dwell on it. She had work to do today, and she couldn’t allow her emotions to get the best of her again, to overwhelm her like they did the night before.

Lexa shook her head, trying to dispel the unnerving feeling she got whenever she remembered how she had felt – or, better said, how she hadn’t felt much of anything. Losing control of her feelings was one thing – going into a rage, or sobbing uncontrollably – but getting disconnected from them… Lexa didn’t want to know what that could do to her, what that could make _her_ capable of doing.

After getting dressed, Lexa went to the kitchen to make coffee and get something to eat. She was confused when she found a plate of pancakes topped with blueberry sauce – her favorite – waiting for her, paired with a sticky-note from Anya that read ‘Eat up, kid. And don’t even try to avoid me. We’re gonna talk’.

Lexa swallowed nervously. She knew Anya wasn’t going to let her off the hook; the conversation was happening whether Lexa wanted it to or not, and Anya was kind enough to make her breakfast and give herself an extra notice so she could mentally prepare.

Sometimes, Lexa felt like she didn’t deserve such an understanding older sister. Anya knew when to push, and she knew when to leave Lexa to her own devices. She never intruded or imposed, but she cared. There was never any doubt as to whether Anya cared. She always fought so fiercely for the people she held close, doing whatever they needed her to do, and knowing exactly what to do without asking. Anya’s perceptive nature and intuition were on another level, a level that Lexa could only aspire to, knowing that she would never reach it.

Thinking about her sister made Lexa smile, and, without realizing, she had already eaten half of the pancakes – though it might have also been because of the blueberry sauce. Damn Anya for knowing her weakness. After she ate the rest of the pancakes – much more slowly, to savor them, Lexa went to make herself coffee.

Opening the cupboard to take the coffee beans out, Lexa noticed the bottle of aspirin also sitting on the shelf. Her mind automatically went to Clarke before she could stop herself, and she wondered how the woman was dealing with her hangover. She stirred in two sugars. Clarke always did like to eat greasy foods when she was either hungover or on her period, so Lexa imagined her devouring a big pizza by herself, maybe a tub of _Ben & Jerry’s_ afterwards.

As she put back the lid on the bottle of milk, Lexa realized she had added sugar and milk without realizing while she thought about Clarke. She had made her coffee the way Clarke liked it. Shaking her head at herself, Lexa took the cup anyway and drank from it. Coffee was still coffee, and it would’ve been a waste not to drink it, even if it _was_ desecrated with milk and sugar.

After enjoying her morning – afternoon, really – coffee, Lexa checked the time and figured she had a couple more hours to kill while waiting for Anya to return from work. She took a duffel bag and gathered her belongings in it; there weren’t many, as her stay at Anya was always supposed to be temporary. Confident enough in her ability to walk by herself, Lexa decided to take the bag back to her apartment and buy some groceries for herself.

 

 

She was in and out of her own apartment in less than five minutes. Lexa had felt an uncomfortable knot form in her stomach as she was approaching the building, so she didn’t dwell for too long, afraid of being emotionally affected by anything in there. She took the bus back to Anya’s, knowing that her sister wouldn’t appreciate her being late, nor would she agree on a rain check if Lexa arrived there too tired.

“Lexa? Where did you go?” came Anya’s voice from the living room as soon as Lexa was through the door.

“Hello, Anya. It’s nice to see you too,” Lexa deadpanned.

“Yeah, yeah,” Anya waved her off, “I thought you bailed on me.”

“I’d never do that. I value my life, and you’d make it hell if I pulled something like that on you.”

Anya nodded, pleased with the answer.

“Good. Now sit, we have a lot of shit to go through, I assume.”

Lexa pursed her lips, knowing the conversation wasn’t going to be a pleasant one. She sat down on the couch, nonetheless, waiting for Anya to start.

“Where were you just now?”

Lexa sighed. She had hoped Anya would ask her about the previous night, but nothing could get past her.

“I went to my apartment to leave my things there.”

Anya’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You’re moving back?”

“Yes. I feel like I’m ready to go back to my usual routine. I also called Gustus and let him know to expect me at the firm starting Monday.”

“Well, I guess if you want to get back to work, there’s nothing stopping you,” Anya shrugged. “I’ve noticed you’ve gone out on jogs in the past weeks, so if you feel comfortable doing that, you definitely won’t have any problems at work.” She paused.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ somewhere in there,” Lexa sighed.

“Well, that’s because there _is_ one. You shouldn’t get back to work just because you feel ready for it _physically_. You need to be ready mentally speaking, as well. You know we only handle tough cases, some that can be more emotionally taxing than others, so you don’t want to be thrown off balance just because you weren’t ready to face them.”

Lexa nodded and fell silent, contemplating what her sister had just said.

“You’re right,” she started, “but I have no way of being a hundred percent sure that I’m ready unless I try. However, I do promise to take a step back if I see that I’m mishandling something.”

It was the closest Lexa was ever going to get to admitting she might not be completely okay, and both women knew it. Anya seemed to consider the issue for a few moments longer, perhaps thinking about pushing the issue more. However, she seemed to think better of it and changed the subject.

“Alright, then. I trust you, and I trust your judgment when it comes to our work, because I know how important it is to you, and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it.”

“Thank you, Anya,” Lexa smiled.

“Now, to the more pressing matter,” Anya said, suddenly turning more serious than usual.

“What the fuck did you do last night?” she yelled, “And why the fuck did you get back at five in the morning, looking like you saw death itself?”

Lexa flinched slightly. Anya had a hot temper, but it wasn’t generally aimed at Lexa. Her sister seemed outright terrifying staring at her like that, and that’s how Lexa knew that Anya wasn’t just angry at her; she was _worried_. Lexa tried to school her expression into a neutral one.

“I had an… unfortunate run-in with Clarke.”

Anya’s eyes widened, but she was interrupted by Lexa before she could say anything.

“It’s fine, I’m fine now. It just caught me by surprise, that’s all, and I needed to process it last night. I’m sorry if it made you worry,” Lexa hung her head apologetically.

Anya blinked, still processing Lexa’s words. When it seemed like their conversation was effectively over and Lexa wanted to get up and leave, Anya finally got out of her own mind, and her expression softened. She put a hand on Lexa’s shoulder.

“Lex… I’m sorry. I know that must have been absolute shit.”

As always, Anya didn’t mix her words. Lexa chuckled softly.

“It’s okay, An. And yes, it was… ‘absolute shit’ as you say, but I’m fine now.”

“You know, it’s okay even if you aren’t,” Anya tried.

“I know. But I _am_ fine.”

Her sister looked anything but convinced, but she nodded anyway.

“Actually... I was thinking, maybe you want to go out for a few drinks? Celebrate moving back, finally giving you some privacy, and getting back to work?”

“Finally! I’ve been trying to get you to a bar for months!” Anya grinned.

“I know, An. I’m sorry that I didn’t come with you then,” Lexa smiled sheepishly.

“Ah, it’s fine. I know you usually prefer staying in anyway, and you weren’t ready for it,” she waved it off.

Lexa hesitated, then-

“Thank you, Anya. For… everything. Being patient with me, knowing what I needed, offering your home while I recuperated… it all means a lot.”

“Anytime, squirt,” she smirked.

“ _Anya_! I told you not to use that nickname for me,” Lexa pouted.

“Oh, come on, kid. Lighten up, we’re going drinking!”

 

 

They ended up drinking at _Grounders_. It was a bit loud for Lexa, but her sister’s relaxed posture made her feel more at ease. She focused on her own glass of whiskey on the rocks, she swirled the liquid around, then took a sip. She felt that familiar sting upon her mouth that turned into a pleasant burn, traveling down her throat and into her stomach, the bitter aftertaste that was somehow sweet on her tongue.

She took another sip and her nerves were soothed. The loud music faded to a comfortable level as Lexa got used to it. The overwhelming movements of the people on the dance floor faded away, too, as she felt the soft, familiar, floating feeling settle in her stomach. Lexa’s worries faded away, even if just for a moment, and for _that_ , she was immensely grateful.

As she did everything in her power to keep her straying thoughts away from Clarke, Lexa noticed a familiar face in the crowd, uncharacteristically sullen. She pushed herself up from her stool at the bar, tapping Anya on the shoulder and motioning towards the person slumping a few meters away. Lexa walked over and cleared her throat loudly to announce her presence.

“Lexa!” Raven’s surprised voice squeaked, “You’re… here?” she slurred her words slightly.

“Raven,” Lexa greeted, a slightly amused smile appearing on her face at her friend’s inebriated state. “I _am_ here, indeed, with Anya,” she motioned towards her sister a few chairs away. “We came here to have a few drinks – celebrate the fact that I’m going back to work next week.”

Raven’s nose scrunched up in disgust.

“You’re celebrating going _back_ to work? Ugh, you two are such work- uh, you’re so obsessed with work.”

“We are,” Lexa agreed with a smile in her voice. “Do you want to join us?”

Raven pretended to puff out her lips in thought, looking like she was doing a poor impression of a duck face. Raven turned her attention to Anya, her gaze morphing into something _else_ , something Lexa hadn’t really seen in Raven’s eyes before.

Raven slowly turned her gaze back to Lexa, and whatever was there mere moments ago was gone.

“Sure,” she answered simply, hopping off her seat and making her way to Anya and Lexa’s chairs with surprisingly confident steps.

Lexa sometimes forgot that not everyone was a lightweight like her, and just because they slurred their words didn’t mean they were extremely drunk.

“Raven,” Anya greeted in a similar way to her sister.

“ _Anyaaa_! It’s so _great_ to see you!” Raven exclaimed. “I feel like we haven’t seen each other in _ages_ ,” she punctuated her statement by making a wide gesture with her arms.

“If you say so, little bird,” Anya answered in her usual nonchalant tone.

“Little bird,” Raven laughed. “Little bird, _little_ bird, little _bird_ ,” she tested the nickname out, then “did you know that ravens can weigh over 4 pounds? Not so little, then, hmm?”

Anya blinked.

“Did you just call yourself fat?”

Raven’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. After a moment, she regained her normal expression.

“Hmm, I guess I did,” she shrugged, “although I wouldn’t use that word, _exactly_. ‘Thick’, maybe?” and with that, she winked at Anya, whose eyes dropped to Raven’s thighs.

Lexa’s eyes widened. She understood now, the look in Raven’s eyes when she had looked at Anya. It was _attraction_. Armed with this new knowledge, Lexa felt terribly uncomfortable and downed her whiskey as quickly as she dared, then made her excuses to leave.

“You’ll be okay with Raven?” she asked her sister, trying and failing to not imagine the two women in an uncompromising position. She felt herself getting queasy.

“Yeah, Lex. We’ll be fine,” Anya answered easily, no trace of being affected by the alcohol at all. “I’ll hail a cab and take her to her place, make sure she gets there alright.”

“Mmh,” Raven made a sound that was supposed to sound attractive, but in actuality sounded like a dying animal. “You _coming_ with me, at my place? I like the sound of that, Woods.”

Lexa’s expression must have been a disastrous mixture of disgusted and terrified, because Anya let her go without any other goodbyes.

While she was trying to shake the thoughts of her sister _sleeping_ with Raven, Lexa felt her heart leap out of her chest when a hand touched her shoulder outside of the club. She turned towards the stranger with fists raised, eyes alert, ready for a fight.

Her fists dropped instantly when she recognized the brunette leaning next to the club’s front doors.

“Octavia,” she breathed, “I- what are- hello,” Lexa finished lamely.

“Hi, Lexa. I’m sorry if I scared you,” Octavia scratched at her neck uncomfortably.

“Oh, uh, it wasn’t your fault. I was… lost in thought.”

“Right.”

“Did you- was there anything you wanted?” Lexa asked awkwardly, feeling the strange tension grow between them.

Octavia bit her lip.

“Actually, I was hoping we could talk. You going home?”

Lexa nodded. “Is it okay if we talk while we walk?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Octavia gestured for Lexa to lead the way.

After a few moments of walking in uncomfortable silence, Octavia cleared her throat.

“I wanted to say… I’m sorry. For disappearing on you. For not speaking up against Clarke when she blamed you,” she started.

Lexa nodded in acknowledgment but stayed otherwise silent, sensing that there was more to come.

“I was… out of it, for a while. I guess I was in shock, at least that’s what my therapist told me,” Octavia admitted.

Lexa’s eyes widened at the mention of a therapist, not having known that Octavia had needed professional help to deal with her feelings.

“I didn’t seek help from the beginning,” Octavia laughed bitterly. “I was so stubborn, refusing to admit I needed help, refusing to let other people help me. I pushed my friends away.”

Lexa felt a pang go off in her chest. She hadn’t wanted to accept her family’s help, either, nor her friends’ help. She had, however, been forced to accept it by her disability, while Octavia hadn’t had that help forced on her. Lexa wondered just how hard it must have been for Octavia to go through it alone.

“Anyway, after Raven left me an angry voicemail telling me to get my shit together or else not bother calling her back when I got my head out of my ass,” she paused, “well, after that, I knew I needed to do something, or I’d lose my friends.”

Lexa heard the unspoken ‘ _or I’d lose her_ ’ louder than Octavia’s actual words.

“So, I got an appointment with a therapist, Dr. Sun, and I got better. I mean, it didn’t get better right from the start, no,” she hurried to add, “in the beginning it was hell. I hated opening up to a stranger, and I was frustrated with myself, and everything was going poorly,” Octavia’s expression seemed to darken momentarily as the memory took over her mind.

“But it did work out in the end, and I realized how I was avoiding you, avoiding _all_ of you, because I was scared.”

Octavia laughed again, and this time it didn’t sound so bitter anymore. “You know, admitting you’re scared is really hard, but it’s also… _liberating_ , in a way,” she mused. “You don’t have anything to hide anymore, so you feel free.”

“So, yeah, that’s the first thing I wanted to say. I wanted to make things right with you, ask for your forgiveness, explain what’s been happening with me,” she finished, wringing her hands nervously.

“You’re already forgiven,” Lexa said softly, smiling reassuringly at Octavia. “I never held a grudge, Octavia. I was… hurt, sure, and I didn’t understand, but I knew that something must have been going on in your mind. I knew you needed time, and that’s what I told Raven, too,” Lexa’s eyes widened as she said the last part.

“You talked to Raven about me?”

“I… we did. She was worried about you, and she was hurt that you were pushing her away.”

Octavia bowed her head regretfully.

“I told her you were probably in shock after the accident, that you needed time to process it all.”

“Thank you. And yes, I did need time to process, but… that wasn’t the only reason I distanced myself from Raven.”

Lexa waited patiently for her to continue, though she could anticipate what would come next.

Octavia took a deep breath. “During the accident, I was looking at Raven. And I saw the metal crushing her leg, I saw how she screamed in pain, how blood started soaking her j-jeans,” her voice cracked, and she stopped walking, took a shaky breath and looked up at the sky.

When she turned her face back to Lexa, her eyes were as resolute as titanium.

“And all I could think of was that I loved her, that I was _in love_ with her, and I was absolutely _terrified_ I was going to lose her,” Octavia’s admission felt so powerful that Lexa could hear it echoing in her own mind, as if they were in the middle of a canyon.

“I was going to lose her; she was going to die without knowing just how _loved_ she was,” she finished sadly, averting her gaze.

Lexa took Octavia’s hands in hers, coaxing the girl to look at her.

“Raven knew, okay? She knew you loved her. Maybe she didn’t know that you loved her in _that_ sense, but she _definitely_ knew you did. She wouldn’t have died thinking otherwise,” Lexa smiled reassuringly.

 “Yeah,” Octavia croaked as tears finally fell down her cheeks. “I-I’ve been trying to talk to her, explain everything, but I guess I’m more of a coward than I thought,” she laughed sadly. “And tonight, I saw you guys there, and I wanted to come up and talk. But then I saw the way she was looking at Anya, the way she touched her… I couldn’t stay any longer to see any of it,” she shook her head and her face crumpled in anguish.

“It’s too late to tell her now. I was a coward for too damn long,” Octavia laughed humorlessly. “I’ll just apologize to her and hope she’ll take me back as her friend.” A look of despair crossed Octavia’s features. “I don’t want to _not_ have her in my life. I’d rather have her as a friend than nothing at all.”

Lexa hugged her. She understood the feeling perfectly, as she would give anything to be able to have Clarke in her life in any capacity, no matter the amount of pain she’d feel if she saw Clarke with someone else. She loved Clarke too much to be able to imagine a life without her. She still had no idea what she was going to do going forward in her life, but she would survive somehow. She always did.

They continued their walk.

“There was one last thing I wanted to talk to you about,” Octavia started. “It’s about Clarke.”

Lexa felt her chest constrict at the mere mention of her but nodded for Octavia to continue anyway.

“You love her,” it was a statement, not a question, yet Lexa still felt compelled to answer, to erase any doubt.

“I do.”

“Good. Then don’t let her go.”

Lexa scrunched her eyebrows. How could she not let Clarke go when the woman wanted nothing to do with her?

“She loves you, Lexa,” Octavia continued softly.

Lexa felt as if her heart was pierced by an arrow; a sharp, intense pain flared up in her chest, and for a moment she was afraid she was going to pass out. The pain dulled to a tolerable level, and Lexa felt well enough to answer.

“She _hates_ me,” she whispered, not managing to say it any louder, terrified of the truth that her statement held.

Octavia shook her head.

“No, Lexa, she doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t even blame you for what happened. Clarke is in a… _really_ bad place right now and all of her grief is pouring out through her anger. And she’s taking out that anger on you because you were there, and you were the closest to her, and she’s avoiding thinking about the fact that she could’ve lost both Jake and you on the same day,” Octavia explained.

“Don’t you see? She’s pushing you away just like I pushed Raven away. Even after I found out that she was going to be okay, I was still afraid I’d lose her, that somehow, another accident would happen, and she _would_ die in the next one. Clarke may not realize what she’s doing right now, but give her time,” she begged. “Give her time like you told Raven to give me time.”

Lexa felt herself deflate.

“But I have been giving her time. I didn’t even try to talk to her after Anya told me what happened. I understood.”

“I know. But Clarke hasn’t realized that _she’s_ the one with the problem, and maybe that’s because you didn’t pester her like Raven pestered me. You didn’t try to talk to her, you didn’t try to explain. You let her think whatever she wanted about you, and you didn’t try to change her opinion.”

Lexa froze.

“You have to talk to her, Lexa. You have to get her to realize that she’s just projecting her anger onto you.”

She turned towards Octavia.

“But, how? She doesn’t want to talk to me,” Lexa said bitterly, remembering how Clarke had called her over, used her for sex, and then kicked her out.

“You have to _make_ her listen. If she isn’t letting you talk, then do something else; write her a letter, show up at her door with a boombox, do _something_ that is going to make her stop and listen. I know there’s a way,” Octavia stated confidently, “there’s always a way.”

“You just have to find a way to tell her.”

 

Hours later, when Lexa lay in her cold bed, in her empty, silent apartment, she couldn’t shake off what Octavia had said to her.

(She had to find a way to tell her.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was an emotional rollercoaster even for me to write, and I'm usually pretty detached from my own writing because I'm very critical of it. I have some favorite moments in this chapter that were filled with feelings. I'd like to know if you have any favorite moments, and if so, which and why!  
> I hope that some of the issues with the timeline and Lexa's progress with her leg have been cleared up in this chapter. There were about two-three weeks between the day she walked to the grocery store and the night when Clarke texted her. And it wasn't a physical issue that stopped Lexa from walking without "crutches"; it was her own mind that was the obstacle. 
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, as it's my favorite one yet, and if you wanna talk some more about the story, leave me a comment here, or on tumblr @ forest-blue! I'm always open to talk :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all about Clarke. You'll see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for the wait! I've been dealing with tons of stress ever since uni started in September and I've been working on this chapter ever since. I think I went through four different versions of it. None of the ideas were coming together at first, but I finally found the right way to continue this story. I've also been sick with a nasty cold and coughing my lungs out, so there's that. 
> 
> This chapter has been a long time coming, but it's here. I promise I'm not abandoning this story, but updates will probably be erratic all through the academic year. Education systems fry my brain and scatter my focus. 
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this chapter even though it's a bit shorter than what I wanted, but it felt right to stop it here. Tell me what you thought either here in the comments, or on tumblr at forest-blue.tumblr.com :D (I don't know if I'll be able to answer all the comments, but I'll definitely try!)
> 
> And for who hasn't lost hope for the story after all this time, I love you <3
> 
> P.S.: there might be some errors, I only proofread this once.

The next morning, Clarke awoke with a sharp pain in the back of her neck. _Served her right for falling asleep on the couch._ She smacked her chapped lips, her mouth feeling uncomfortably dry; she had overdone it with the drinking these past few days. There was no headache today, at least, so that was good, but Clarke felt jittery for some reason, and she couldn’t shake the feeling.

She got up from the couch and her eyes went straight to the painting of Lexa. _Shit._ Clarke sighed and looked away, pushing past the anxiety stirring in her belly. She had to pee, shower, and get herself some coffee. Anything else could wait until later.

As she showered, Clarke couldn’t help but think about the painting and what it meant. Yesterday, she had managed to ignore the thoughts that came after painting Lexa, but today her mind was relentless with its string of questions and doubts. She took the bottle of shampoo and squeezed. Why had she painted _Lexa_ , of all people?

She was angry at her, sure. Frustrated at her silence, maybe, but Clarke didn’t really have a reason to expect anything but silence from Lexa, since she had avoided her like the plague and spewed hateful words to anyone who’d listen. She rinsed her hair; the water running down her body was tinted red – the dye was fading.

The truth was that Clarke didn’t hate Lexa – _couldn’t_ hate Lexa. Oh, she tried convincing herself many times that she _had_ to, but the feeling just wasn’t there. There was anger – and lots of it – and pain, and grief, and some other feeling that was like… anxiety? Clarke didn’t know, and she didn’t really care about analyzing her feelings for Lexa.

( _Not yet,_ anyway _._ )

But she didn’t hate Lexa, and that was apparent enough from the fact that she painted her. Clarke _never_ painted something she hated, no matter how much she wanted to tell herself that there was a first time for everything. She reached for the conditioner.

All day she had been plagued by that goddamn painting. She had done all she could to keep herself from glancing at it, but her eyes drifted to the steely look in Lexa’s eyes – that mask of indifference that she wore when she was most vulnerable; the expression that had appeared when Clarke had kicked her out of the apartment after using her for sex. Clarke wasn’t stupid, nor naïve – she saw past Lexa’s defenses, could spot the watery shine of Lexa’s eyes even under the cover of darkness that the middle of the night provided. She stepped out of the shower and dried herself with a towel.

Clarke hadn’t cared. She had gone back to bed, even though she was so wired she couldn’t possibly have fallen asleep. She had heard the silence that followed her words, tense moments that stretched out for so long they could’ve been minutes or hours, during which she swore she could hear Lexa breathe if she focused enough. Then came strange, clumsy footsteps, and for a moment Clarke was afraid that someone else was in the apartment, until she heard the unmistakable sound of the door chain, a brusque opening and closing of the door, and a key turning in the lock.

(She had forgotten that Lexa had a key. She hadn’t thought to ask for it back.)

After Lexa left, a strange calm had washed over the apartment, and Clarke succumbed to sleep easy enough, the buzzing energy that had been flowing through her veins dissipating, leaving only a faint trail of anxiety in its wake that manifested through that brand of strange dreams that one could not remember in the morning. Clarke put on a clean t-shirt, fresh underwear and a pair of sweatpants.

She sighed in annoyance. She was thinking about it again. Today was a new day, and she’d be damned if she let herself think in circles about Lexa or that stupid painting any longer. She strode back to the living room resolutely and covered the canvas with a white sheet. _There._ Problem solved.

Only… as she went about making coffee, maybe she still felt somewhat uneasy, and maybe images of Lexa kept appearing unbidden in her mind. She massaged her temples. There was no avoiding this today. Sat on the couch with a frown on her face, Clarke sipped at her coffee.

She had to do _something_ about it. Nodding to herself, Clarke put the mug down and took her phone from its precarious place on the corner of the coffee table. She scrolled down her contacts and pressed call.

The phone rang twice, then three times. It kept ringing and ringing, and just when Clarke was about to give up, she heard the call connect.

“Hey. Can you come over?... Yeah. Okay.”

She sighed and drank some more coffee. Well, that was that. Now all that was left was waiting.

 

 

“You’d better have a good reason for calling me out of the blue, Clarke. _And_ when I have the worst hangover ever,” Raven grumbled as loudly as her headache allowed, walking over to Clarke’s couch and unceremoniously slumping on it.

“So? Where’s the groveling? ‘Oh, Raven, I’m so sorry I was a total bitch to you, you were right, blah blah…’?”

Clarke’s eyes widened. She looked away from her friend, and bit her lip, neither reaction going unnoticed by Raven.

“Oh, _wow_ , Clarke. You didn’t even think of that, did you? How _nice_ of you to call me because you need something and not think of apologizing for being a shitty friend first.”

Clarke shook her head. “No, Rae, wait. I’m sorry, I-” she took a deep breath, “I _am_ sorry for the things I said to you.”

Raven raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“ _And_ for ignoring your calls, and for basically disappearing on you,” she mumbled. “None of what happened was your fault, and I snapped at you for no reason.”

(If only she could think the same thing of Lexa.)

“Yeah, you did,” Raven answered with a frown.

“I’m also sorry I forgot about all of it, and I know there isn’t any excuse that makes up for it, but… I made a terrible mistake and you were the only one who’d understand because you’ve seen me do it before.”

A dark, knowing look passed between the two women, telling the story that only they knew.

“Alright,” Raven conceded, “what’s so terrible that you needed to remind me of he-who-must-not-be-named?”

Clarke averted her eyes.

“I had sex with Lexa.”

“ _What?!_ ” Raven yelled out in shock, then winced as a wave of pain went through her head. Then she considered Clarke’s words. “Wait, when?” she tried again, this time at a safer volume.

“Two nights ago.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Clarke exhaled heavily, covering her face with her hands.

After an uncomfortable period of silence, Raven spoke.

“Why?”

Clarke looked up and shrugged.

“I was drunk – wasn’t thinking straight.”

“That’s not a reason, just an excuse – and a flimsy one at that,” Raven pointed out. “And I would hope you didn’t call me all the way over here just to feed me bullshit.”

Clarke pursed her lips.

“No, I didn’t,” she said somberly, closing her eyes. She paused, then-

“I was drunk then, too. With Finn, I mean.”

Clarke opened her eyes and chanced a look at Raven, who looked wholly unperturbed by the subject.

“I know,” she answered simply.

“I never told you _why_ I did it, and at the time I guess I was trying not to think about it too much.”

Raven nodded.

“I knew you had a crush on him, and that he wasn’t interested in dating anyone seriously, just in casual hook-ups. He was a fuckboy, wanted only the girls he couldn’t have.”

“Like you.”

“Like me, yeah. He had been following me around the campus like a little puppy for weeks. It was getting borderline creepy, like he was obsessed with me because he hadn’t managed to fuck me. _I_ wasn’t dating or fucking anyone at the time, yet I was going out at parties – _Party Animal Griffin_ ,” she smiled at the nickname, “so I _must_ have wanted to get some. How could I _possibly_ resist his manly charms?”

“I don’t know how you didn’t end up in the hospital from all that alcohol.”

A strange look took over Clarke’s eyes.

“I do. Lexa took care of me. She took care of me even before we were officially friends, back when we were just roommates,” she smiled nostalgically.

“I remember she was so annoyed with me because I came back to the room late, I knocked down some of her books trying to get to my bed, and I smelled like crap. But if I was sick, she’d hold my hair back while I puked, and when I woke up at noon, there’d be a glass of water and an aspirin on the table. She wasn’t very good at pretending to be mad at me,” Clarke laughed, but it was tinged with something darker, something more akin to grief.

Clarke shook her head, not allowing herself to continue her line of thought.

“That wasn’t the point,” Clarke started, “I mean, it kind of _is_ part of it,” she grimaced.

“The main reason – the _rational_ reason – was that I knew Finn would get over me if he had sex with me, and then maybe he’d get his head out of his ass and see that there was more to life than having sex with pretty girls. That there was also _dating_ pretty girls, and one _particular_ pretty girl, to be more exact,” Clarke gestured towards Raven.

“So I went to a party and told Lexa not to come – she coincidentally had a big exam the next day – and she agreed, told me to drink water and take care of myself. And then I got myself a bit drunk and texted Finn, asked him if he was up for some fun. And he agreed.”

“We met at his dorm, he sneaked me past the floor don, and… well. You know the rest. You had agreed to be his fuckbuddy, he forgot you were coming that night, you found us in a… _compromising_ position, all that,” Clarke waved it all away like it meant nothing.

And it _didn’t_ mean anything to either of them. They had agreed that Finn was the douchebag at fault, left him to gather dust on his sad dick.

“So I did it because I thought it would make Finn get over me… but I also thought I would get over Lexa.”

Raven frowned.

“What? That doesn’t make sense. You were into Lexa _then_? Wasn’t _she_ the hopeless romantic that followed you around at parties even though she barely drank, while you were oblivious to it all?”

Clarke laughed, shaking her head.

“No. Lexa didn’t have a crush on me. She was just caring and protective. She would’ve done the same for any friend if they were acting as recklessly as I was.”

Raven rolled her eyes but said nothing. Clarke was just as oblivious to Lexa’s heart-eyes as always, but it wasn’t Raven’s place to tell her anything.

“She was just so sweet, you know? I think half of the campus must have had a crush on her, with how nice she was to everyone. It didn’t help that she took care of her appearance, and always went out of the room looking like a fucking model.”

Raven nodded. That much was probably true. One time, she could swear she saw a girl _swoon_ when Lexa passed by. She _was_ wearing tight black jeans, though, so Raven couldn’t blame her. Lexa had a _fantastic_ ass. She shook her head. Not the right time to daydream about her ridiculously hot friends.

“Okay- so you told me all this why exactly?”

 “Uh, well- I guess it made more sense in my head?” Clarke scratched her head. “I’m not sure where I started anymore, or why,” she finished lamely.

“Well, okay. Let’s start from the beginning. You had sex with Lexa. Why did you say that was a mistake?”

“Every single one of my drunk choices has been a mistake, so far,” Clarke frowned. “Besides, having sex with her didn’t help with anything. It just made me angrier when I saw her in my apartment after,” Clarke paused, “and then sort of kicked her out.”

“Ouch,” Raven winced. “You know,” she hesitated, “maybe this isn’t something you’ll figure out by talking to me. Don’t give me that look, Clarke, you know it’s true. You can tell me all about your problems with Lexa, and sure, I’ll listen and give you advice. But ultimately, to actually _solve_ the problems,” she shrugged, “you have to talk to _Lexa_. You gotta sit down together, have a serious conversation and get it all out.”

Clarke pursed her lips.

“I know you don’t like the idea, and I understand where that’s coming from. But if you want to get over whatever you’re feeling and get better, then you gotta get out of your comfort zone. It’s how this whole… people and relationship thing works.”

“Okay.”

“ _Okay_?” Raven repeated incredulously. “What do you mean okay? Who are you and what have you done with my jerk, stubborn-ass best friend?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.”

“I do try,” Raven smirked.

“I don’t know. I just… I’m just really tired of being angry all the time. And I’ve been sitting in here wallowing for- it seems like forever sometimes. Plus, the pizza and takeout boxes piled on top of the trash have started to disgust even me.”

“Huh, that’s fair. Well, I’m glad I could help, Clarke, but now I’m gonna go sleep until like 4pm and ignore all my responsibilities.”

“That’s also fair,” Clarke smirked. “Hey, Raven?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, princess,” Raven answered with a grin.

 

Hours later, Clarke sat in front of the easel deeply exhausted but satisfied. The painting of Lexa had been deposited safely in her closet, and a new, wet canvas now occupied its former place. Jake Griffin’s charming smile filled the painting with love, his warm blue eyes reflected in the artist’s own glistening pair.

Clarke laughed wetly, letting a few tears fall down her face. Painting him, just like painting Lexa, had felt immensely liberating, like a huge weight was taken off her shoulders. She remembered her watch, then, and went to retrieve it. The old sports watch didn’t tick anymore – Raven had repaired it many times, until even she had to admit that there was no way to make it work again – but Clarke felt safer, more grounded when she wore it. It was a little piece of her father’s love that stuck with her through heaven or hell. She clasped it back on her wrist.

She looked at the painting again and thought of Abby. Her mother’s birthday was coming up in just a few weeks, and Clarke knew she would absolutely love the painting of Jake. As she let it dry, Clarke called her mom and chatted with her for a bit, surprised but grateful that Abby didn’t mention that her daughter had been avoiding her calls.

Sometimes Clarke forgot that they were alike in grief – her mom lost herself in her work when she was upset, while Clarke locked herself away from people. They were both great at discarding their feelings, or focusing on the wrong ones, like anger. The screaming matches that had happened between them when Clarke switched majors from medicine to art were a testament to that. But they had gotten over that, and now it seemed they were moving past this, too. The Griffin women were _strong_.

Physically and emotionally exhausted, Clarke went to bed early with a clear head and no alcohol in her system for the first time in a long while. Her thoughts drifted to Lexa just before she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit I'm very surprised with the way this story is going now. Originally, I had planned for it to be... different. More sex and anger, less of Clarke being... aware. But they're adults, and I think I underestimated Clarke's character when I planned this fic. She cares a lot more than I gave her credit. And I know it might be weird to talk about Clarke as if she's an actual living person, but that's how I write stories: I let the characters be themselves, and I just facilitate their movement through the world, help them get the story out. Don't know if that makes sense, but I thought you should know. I try to make everything feel as real as possible, always. Hopefully no melodrama, but real amounts of emotions, both good and bad.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading (whether you've just started or you've been here for longer) and I hope you'll stick with me a while longer to see Clarke and Lexa figure this out, hmm? 
> 
> See you soon(...ish).


End file.
